


Both sides of the Mirror

by AnonimousWritingPractice



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: F/M, Lore friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27957821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonimousWritingPractice/pseuds/AnonimousWritingPractice
Summary: For a few months in 1912, Elizabeth discovers the wonders of sexuality, while the Luteces observing her sudden maturation and reminisce about their past experiences.Lore-friendly, should fit the game's timeline without lose ends. Also explains some possible questions about the game (Elizabeth's makeup, choice of clothes...). Original title was "Both sides of the one-way mirror".
Relationships: Elizabeth/Ty
Kudos: 3





	Both sides of the Mirror

Elizabeth lay naked on the bed, wearing only a blue skirt and her choker, breathing heavily, caressing her belly, not noticing Ty standing up besides her. He already retrieved his underpants and was buttoning his shirt when Elizabeth said, panting: "That was... this was..." She was unable to find the words to express her feelings properly. "Thank you."  
Ty looked at her with a sad face, "please. It's the least I can do." There was guilt in his voice. Elizabeth now turned sideways, facing Ty, gazing at him. _What does he mean by that?_. Ty pulled up his pants and fastened the belt. "If you need anything--"  
She fondled her breasts, seemingly without realizing it. She looked at him seductively, saying "well, if you're up for it..."  
Ty bent down and seized his jacket from the floor. "I can't." He dared not glance at her, fearing that her figure would best his principles. _I have risked enough,_ he thought as he left without a word.  
She stayed in bed for a few minutes, lying comfortably on the sweatsoaked sheets, and moved her hand to her pulsing opening, _I can feel it, feel_ him _inside me_. She pushed in two of her fingers, arching her back in doing so, her other hand groping her left breast hard as she climaxed for the sixth time. When Elizabeth finally decided that it was time to leave, she looked horrified to her hand that was covered with thick, bloody wetness. After the initial shock, she stood up, still mortified, and felt as if her skirt was glued to her bottom. On the bed there was a small, semi-translucent pink puddle where she lay. She felt her heart pounding, while she tried to recall all the books she have ever read that might explain the blood stains. _Upon the initial insertion the hymen may tear which can cause..._ "Alright, so that's solved, but now I have to figure out how to get rid of it." Elizabeth clearly wanted to keep it a secret; not because she was ashamed that she was with a black man, she was never taught and thus never felt the burden of morals and these aspects of common decency, but because she was not supposed to have contact with anyone other than Songbird.

"Well, well, well, our little bird found a way to break out of her cage," said a female voice behind the one way mirror. "It was a phenomenal performance, don't you think?"  
"It was most certainly, dear sister," replied a male voice, "even though her breakout was only metaphorical."  
"Still, very impressive," she replied. "Who would have thought that a half-lettered colored boy would have the courage to make this happen?"  
"Rosalind, my dear," he put one of his hands on the other's shoulder, "don't write off Ty simply as a 'colored boy', please."  
"Too bad that it won't last long," she replied using the same near-emotionless voice.  
The Luteces watched her growing up. After all, they were the ones who brought her here some 18 years ago. They were told to design her cage so that she can be kept under surveillance without ever needing to enter, but they already knew that one day someone shall; they did not know, however, which future should happen, or rather, which future should happen to _her._ "What were the chances of it happening?" Rosalind asked with amusing interest, "Twelve, fifteen percent?"  
"Thereabouts", he answered. "It could have gone a lot worse." He gestured towards one of the airtight doors. "Shall we?"  
"Naturally." She went through the door and continued, "however, regardless of what would have happened, it would not have changed anything, Robert," she said factually.  
"Most certainly not, alas," he turned to face his twin, "this outcome was more enjoyable to watch then some of the others, don't you agree?"  
"Which one do you mean?" Her face bore an almost puzzled look compared to their usual expression. "The one in which she stabbed him with a paintbrush or the one in which she bit a piece out of his neck?"  
"What's with this sudden obsession of murder of yours?" They turned towards the bathroom's observatory and opened the metal curtains.  
"It is not an obsession, there was a 75% chance of that happening." Elizabeth entered the room as she finished, wearing clean clothes and carrying her bloody skirt.  
"I know, but--" Robert stopped when he saw what she was doing, "it can wait, look!"

The taps above the bathtub were already open, pouring water directly onto the blue fabric. Elizabeth stood in front of the faucet, washing the blood off of her hands. It gave the water a distinct pink color. _If it's this hard to wash off my hands, how hard it'll be to wash out of the skirt?_ She waited for the tub to fill halfway up, closed the taps and began working on the stain for a solid hour, at which point she gave up. She drained the large ceramic bowl, dried her skirt as well as she could, _just enough that water won't drop from it_ , went to the library and opened a picture book randomly that had paintings and photographs of cities from all over the world. Elizabeth put down the fabric and closed her eyes, trying to imagine how her surroundings would look like in "Vienna, Austria-Hungary" and managed to open a tear momentarily, long enough to throw the skirt through it. "Alright, that's solved," she said proudly, as she was barely ever able to open tears at will, let alone exactly to the desired location and time.  
The little bird walked to the dining room where she found her next meal places neatly at the round table, surrounded by all the utensils a young lady may need to dine properly. Finishing her dinner, she went back into the bedroom to sleep, only to see that she had forgotten about the sheets; a now dried up stain remained of her insubordination. Lacking better alternatives, she returned to the _City of Music_ and dumped the incriminating cloth before she was finally able to rest.

Elizabeth and Ty met thrice a week during the following months; every time he entered her library, Elizabeth abandoned what she was doing and led him to her bedroom. On the 3rd July, after waking up, Elizabeth began to prepare for what she would now, having been told about the customs and views of the great outside, describe as _the very thing for which it's worth to become a sinner._ She put on her trusty student outfit over her corset, light makeup and a tight choker to top it all off. Looking in the mirror, she admired the pretty girl who smiled back, while she tied her hair loosely instead of braiding it, _it'll get messy anyway_. However, Ty did not come. Elizabeth remembered that he was complaining for a few weeks, more and more leaks and breaks were happening, which resulted him appearing late, angry, in a bad mood or completely missing a date. Elizabeth waited for him, walking up and down, and caressing the bruises on her arms and side from when Ty grabbed her forcefully while pounding her.  
"Should we--" began Robert somewhat worryingly.  
"No," said Rosalind calmly. "There's no good in letting her know."  
"That I'm aware of. I meant the... injuries."  
"No. Remember her spasms, how her toes were clenching, how she held onto him?" she said eerily softly. "She was enjoying it."  
Robert looked rather worried still, "but surely, it must have hurt."  
"Oh, yes," she responded, blushing slightly, "it most certainly did." She pulled up one of her sleeves above her elbow, showing purple bruises on her upper forearm. "See?"  
"Dear sister, when, _how_ did you get it?" he asked without looking. "Surely, in our current state--" "Of course not, Robert." Rosalind fixed her clothing. "It just happened yesternight, exactly 26 years ago." She stroke her forearm lovingly and continued with a sweet, nostalgic voice: "Ah, I miss those times, back in the dormitory, before I let--"  
Robert finished her thought, "let the others know my true genius, I know, happened to me too". He also fondled his arm on the same spot, but there was nothing there. "Alas, we were never this rough."  
"With Victoria? How come?" Rosalind showed borderline uncharacteristic interest.  
"Almost. Victor."  
"Oh." She sensed the unwillingness in her brother's voice. Elizabeth, while they were talking, began reading an old and rugged book that's soft cover read _The Romance of Lust_ in her bed, alone. "Regardless, it is funny how our 'taste' were different, yet all the same, is it not?"  
"I suppose." Robert looked at the girl, "I believe we should tell her." He could not let go of his emotions and worldly standards as well as his sister.  
"Morally? Yes. Otherwise, most definitely not. Nor to anyone else, neither what has, nor what is about to happen." Rosalind shut this possibility down for good. "She's already about to... when shall he come, do you know?"  
"I do not." He looked at his wrist where he used to wear a watch. "Could be any minute now."  
They watched Elizabeth falling asleep and the book slipping out of her right hand.

She woke up the following morning as if nothing happened out of the ordinary which, in a sense, was true. She decided that worrying about Ty has no point whatsoever, thus she turned her attention towards something else, namely forming a plan on how to replace his lover when he shall inevitable stop coming to her on every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday.  
"What do you reckon she's doing?" asked Robert.  
"If I had to guess," Rosalind looked at the big pile of books next to the young girl who was avidly reading a particularly huge tome, "she's trying to create a mechanical replacement of our dear Mr. Bradley."  
"How sad," replied the brother. "I believe it is time for us to leave. Should we?"  
"Yes." They closed the room, returned it into its previous state and finally disappeared in a manner which suggested that a certainly someone was about to arrive, whom they desperately wanted to avoid.  
Elizabeth spent the following days in the library, sorting out the most relevant books by their usefulness on Anatomy, Mechanical Engineering, Woodwork, Electric Motors, along with a hefty volume on Quantum Mechanics, just for fun, and compiled them in front of the staircase. It was Saturday when she found herself wondering between the rooms, daydreaming about Paris and how she and Ty would leave this place together. She could not recall how she ended up staring out of the panorama window in her library, holding a copy of Odyssey that she mistook for a book about Female Anatomy that she was reading on the day before. All she knew that there was a sudden metallic crumbling, chains had broken and a man fall through the ceiling, but it was not the one she was expecting to see. She screamed, dropping the Greek Epic, watched the mysterious man falling down onto the floor, before she could get ahold of her book again, only to throw at him. Suspecting that her captors sent him to punish her, she ran down, grabbed the first thing she could find and attacked the man, who was yelling at her, "Knock it off! Stop it!" As he saw that an attack is nigh-unavoidable, he quickly added, "I'm not here to hurt you!"  
Elizabeth was not taking chances, hitting him before asking for his name and continued hitting him after for good measure. Booker, or rather the man who claimed to be called that, told her that he is here to rescue her, alas she kept hitting, until Booker hold his hand out, grabbing her arm, which was still sensitive to touch. She stopped at once. "Are you real?" she asked with a newfound calm and smiled when the man replied, yet she lost her joy fast, as the statue beside them began singing and chaos ensued.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, this is my first publication on here! Thanks to the writers and developers for putting out such a wonderful game and story that has just enough unknowns in the timeline that I was able to fit this story in it and not needing to worry about possible implications of it on future events.


End file.
